"I might have known, you—you utter cad! You don't deserve to be in a school among ladies!"
"Go on. Pitch it as strong as you like. The cub's quits with you now for all your airs and your nastiness."
"Oh, don't!" protested Ulyth, interfering in much distress. "Rona, do stop! I'd no idea you meant to play such a dreadful trick on Stephie."
"You must have known something of it, or you wouldn't have come to look on. I expect you were at the bottom of it," sneered Stephanie; "so don't try to sneak out of it, Ulyth Stanton. Your precious joke has marked me for life."
"No, no! It's only cochineal and milk. I got it from the cook," put in the Cuckoo.
"It's stained her face all over, though," said Beth Broadway reproachfully.
"I shall go straight to Miss Bowes," whimpered Stephanie.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Ulyth. "Try some methylated spirit first. I'll give you some from my room."
The remedy proved efficacious. The stains yielded to gentle rubbing, and the four girls flew in a wild hurry to make their beds, three much relieved and one naughtily exultant.
"I've paid out Stephie," panted Rona, tucking in her blankets anyhow. "I felt proud of that letter. Made it up with the help of advertisements in the Illustrated Journal. Then I typed it in the study while Teddie was out. You didn't know I could type? Learnt how on the voyage, from a girl who'd a typewriter on board with her. I laid on the butter pretty thick. I knew Steph would swallow it to any amount. Oh, didn't she just look flattered? It was prime! The under-housemaid posted the parcel for me."